The O Antiphons: Praising the names of Jesus
by Jeanne Kun
It is especially in the final week of Advent that our attention is fixed on the messianic promises proclaimed by the ancient prophets of Israel. A distinctive feature of the Liturgy of the Hours in this week preceding the Christmas vigil is the antiphon sung at Vespers (evening prayer) before and after the recitation of the Magnificat. Originally incorporated into the monastic office in the Middle Ages, these antiphons, often called the "Greater Antiphons" or the "O Antiphons", are also echoed in the daily lectionary as the verse for the gospel acclamation during this week. They add a mood of eager expectation to the liturgy that builds throughout these seven days and climaxes at Christmas.
The O Antiphons have been described as "a unique work of art and a special ornament of the pre-Christmas liturgy, filled with the Spirit of the Word of God". They "create a poetry that fills the liturgy with its splendor", and their composer shows "a magnificent command of the Bible's wealth of motifs". The antiphons are, in fact, a collage of Old Testament types of Christ. Their predominant theme is messianic, stressing the hope of the Savior's coming. Jesus is invoked by various titles, mainly taken from the prophet Isaiah. The sequence progresses historically, from the beginning, before creation, to the very gates of Bethlehem.
In their structure, each of the seven antiphons follows the same pattern, resembling a traditional liturgical prayer. Each O Antiphon begins with an invocation of the expected Messiah, followed by praise of him under one of his particular titles. Each ends with a petition for God's people, relevant to the title by which he is addressed, and the cry for him to "Come".
The seven titles attributed to Jesus in the antiphons are Wisdom (Sapientia in Latin), Ruler of the House of Israel (Adonai), Root of Jesse (Radix), Key of David (Clavis), Rising Dawn (Oriens), King of the Gentiles (Rex). and Emmanuel. In Latin the initials of the titles make an acrostic which, when read backwards. means: "Tomorrow I will be there" ("Ero cras"). To the medieval mind this was clearly a reference to the approaching Christmas vigil.
Today the O Antiphons are most familiar to us in the hymn "O come, O come Emmanuel". Each verse of the hymn parallels one of the antiphons. In addition to their use in the Liturgy of the Hours and the gospel acclamation, they have been popularly incorporated into church devotions and family prayer. An Advent prayer service for use at home, in school, or in the events of parish life can be built around the singing or recitation of the antiphons, accompanied by the related Scripture readings and prayers. They can be prayed at family dinner times or with the lighting of the Advent wreath, with a short explanation of their biblical background. The titles can also be depicted by simple symbols - for example, on banners and posters or in bulletin illustrations - to help us to reflect on these Advent themes.
(c) 2000 Jeanne Kun
Our own Bishop Kenneth writes...
Kenneth Stevenson reflects on the second of the great ‘O’ antiphons
O Adonai, and leader of the House of Israel,
who appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush
and gave him the Law at Sinai:
Come and redeem us with an outstretched arm.
The antiphon opens by addressing God as Lord. “Adonai” is the Hebrew for “Master” or “Lord”, and it comes in the plural form in order to emphasise God’s majesty. It refers to God’s eternal leadership of his people.
It points to God’s strong but gentle rule. If leadership is strongly desired, but the way it is exercised is controverted, then power is an even more difficult term to include in the Christian repertoire in today’s world.
Years ago, Austin Farrer preached a Christmas sermon in which he made the following observations:
We love the exercise of power in ourselves, it is the citadel of our being, our darling sin. We hate it in our neighbours, and in order to escape from it, we take a pathetic refuge in meaninglessness. . .
The universal misuse of human power has the sad effect that power, however lovingly used, is hated. To confer benefits is surely more godlike than to ask them; yet our hearts go out more easily to begging children than they do to generous masters. We have so mishandled the sceptre of God which we have usurped, we have played providence so tyrannically to one another, that we are made incapable of loving the government of God himself or feeling the caress of an almighty kindness. . .
The power of God perplexes us, but his weakness is still all about us; this is still the engine with which he moves our minds.
(Said or Sung, Faith Press, 1964)
God has long been described as “omnipotent”, meaning not only that he can do anything, but that all power of any kind belongs ultimately to him. But our sullied hands and consciences, as individuals and as a human race, are tainted by acts of barbarism and greed, sometimes done in the name of progress.
This leaves us with the sure and certain conclusion that Leadership + Law + Power do not together necessarily create spiritual success. There is a deep and deadly ambiguity about power in the Christian faith. It starts at Bethlehem, and ends at Calvary. It warns us not to try to run the Church as some kind of commercial success, as if it were all about bulging congregations of the strong and happy, for whom it is all a good and therapeutic hobby.
Something more real may often be found in those small, struggling inner-city congregations, where the church is the only local community-builder left, and the breaking of bread each Sunday is a proclamation of power in sheer weakness.
All this is not to say that power should not be exercised, nor that every time it is called into question it is automatically wrong.
The “Adonai” expressed in the Law given by Moses to the People of Israel, the Suffering Lord whom we subsequently see in the face of Jesus Christ — these are Advent truths of the Coming God, in power and great glory, but a power and a glory of a different kind than we can imagine or experience in human terms.
This is an edited extract from Watching and Waiting: A guide to the celebration of Advent by Kenneth Stevenson (Canterbury Press, £12.99)
